


The Bells of Illusion

by aelora



Category: Heroes (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-18
Updated: 2016-09-18
Packaged: 2018-08-15 20:40:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8071990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aelora/pseuds/aelora
Summary: Can they believe?





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mmm_brainz](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=mmm_brainz).



> This was written as a prompt fic for the Christmas carol, Carol of the Bells, for mmm_brainz over on Livejournal December 2007.

_I call the Living--I mourn the Dead-- I break the Lightning._  
\- **inscribed on the Great Bell of the Minister of Schaffhausen**  
  
  
  
  
“This isn’t real, you know.”  
  
Mohinder glances over at Elle on his way out the door. He frowns. “I know.”

 

*****************************************

 

 _This is the most absurd solution ever.”_  
  
“You would prefer then, that we execute him?” Bob asks. “I know Bennet is more than attached to that idea.”  
  
Mohinder remains silent, ideals warring with what he knows is the right thing to do.  
  
“Once the process is complete, I am going to put him under your watch – “  
  
“Mine?! I refuse – “  
  
“Sylar has always had a particular interest in you, Doctor Suresh. You know it as well as the rest of us. You know him better than anyone. In his memories, it will have been you, and not your father, who approached him.”  
  
“I’m not going to do this.”  
  
“You don’t have a choice.”

 

*****************************************

 

The bells from the church a few blocks away are ringing as Mohinder reaches the watch shop. He pauses outside, listening to the haunting sound, a dozen quotes from a dozen books about bells and their significance passing through his mind as he pushes the door open and steps inside. The bells grow muffled, their sound overtaken by the ticking of the clocks around him. He slips off his gloves and scarf, wondering all the while how Gabriel can possibly stand this sound, day in, day out, without going mad, and maybe that explains a lot about the past.  
  
“Gabriel?”  
  
“Back here, Mohinder,” comes the soft reply.  
  
Mohinder makes his way to the back of the shop where Gabriel is at the bench, bent over what appears to be a pocket watch, the magnifiers set on his nose, peering at the intricate workings inside. Not bothering Gabriel at first, he lets him work, watching as he does so, thinking to himself that a lot can happen in a very little time, and sometimes he hates that things are different, and at other times he can’t imagine it being any other way.  
  
When finished, Gabriel sits up, removing the glasses and looking up at Mohinder with a welcoming smile. “Hey. I wasn’t expecting you for another hour.”  
  
“Got away sooner than I thought I could.”  
  
He steps over for a kiss, just a quick, small touch because Gabriel gets embarrassed by anything more in a place he considers public. It causes Mohinder to wonder how Sylar would have regarded such things; not that Mohinder would have ever been caught dead kissing that murderer, but he can’t help but believe that Sylar would have been far more receptive to public displays of affection than his alter-ego.  
  
“What about you?” Mohinder asks, looking down at the watch. “Can you get out of here early?”  
  
Gabriel nods. “Let me just get a few things put away. Then we can head out. Are you still looking for gifts for Molly?”

 

*****************************************

 

 _"You’re going to let them do this, aren’t you? You’re just going to stand by and watch.”_  
  
_“You’re lucky they’re being so altruistic. Otherwise, this would be your last day on this Earth.”_  
  
_“I’d rather be dead than return to that miserable life…”_  
  
_“I’d rather you dead as well. Finally, we can agree on something.”_  
  
_Sylar stares at him for a long, silent moment, and if the Haitian weren’t present, Mohinder would be worried._  
  
_“And here I once thought you were the smart one, Mohinder. Do you really believe you can keep me hidden forever?”_  
  
_Mohinder leaves the cell without responding._

 

*****************************************

 

Molly has been the biggest problem. It’s not that she doesn’t understand what’s happened, and that things are different now, but she’s still having trouble accepting, and Mohinder understands that. She spends most of her time with Matt in a small apartment he acquired across town, but on the days she does spend with Mohinder, it’s more than obvious she’d prefer Gabriel not be present. He tries, but it’s not always possible, and he can’t raise too many suspicions. As it is, Molly barely speaks to Gabriel, and the only thing that saves the situation is the fact that Mohinder has discovered that Gabriel is generally uncomfortable around children as it is. His behavior would be amusing if Mohinder didn’t know what Sylar had done to Molly’s parents.  
  
They’re making dinner together and Mohinder realizes he’s out of rice. He plans on going to the store to get it but when he sees the look on Molly’s face at being left alone with Gabriel, he hesitates.  
  
“Molly,” he begins.  
  
“I don’t want to stay with him.”  
  
“I’m just running down to the corner. Won’t be more than five minutes.”  
  
She crosses her arms over her chest stubbornly.  
  
Glancing up, Mohinder sees Gabriel hovering in the background, flashing a furtive look in their direction. He finally calls out softly, “I can go. Write down what you need, Mohinder. I’ll get it.”

 

*****************************************

 

 _Hiro Nakamura jokingly referred to it as “death of personality”, something he said he saw in a science fiction show once. In that reality, they took the worst criminals – the mass murderers and serial killers for whom there was no chance of rehabilitation – and wiped out all memories of their life with the help of a telepath. They would then implant a completely new life, one that left the offender in service to society for the rest of their days. Mohinder understands the theory, even lauds it in his own mind – death penalties have always seemed particularly barbaric to him, even though, when given the chance, he’d attempted to implement an execution of his own._  
  
_He can freely admit to the hypocrisy._  
  
_He still doesn’t think it’s right, and worries that it’s all going to go wrong, and when it happens, he closes his eyes and covers his ears, and tries to ignore Sylar’s cries that Mohinder has betrayed him._

 

*****************************************

 

Some days are more difficult than others, Mohinder thinks as the equipment on the table between them sails across the lab. It’s Gabriel’s temper tantrums that worry him the most. The frustration and desperation that still simmer just beneath the surface.  
  
“Gabriel,” he says softly, reaching out to touch his hand. “Calm down.”  
  
He snatches his hand away and runs his fingers through his hair in aggravation, tugging slightly. “It’s just – I don’t understand it! It doesn’t make sense! How could the virus just remove my natural ability without taking the others?”  
  
“There’s a lot about the various strains of the virus we don’t understand. But, we’re trying. With your help – “  
  
“It’s unfair!”  
  
Mohinder bites the inside of his cheek. “Gabriel,” he begins, reaching out to touch him once more. “You have plenty of amazing abilities. You don’t need anything else.”  
  
“At least not until you decide Peter Petrelli is far more fascinating and worthy of your time than me.”  
  
“That isn’t going to happen.”

 

*****************************************

 

The lies are becoming a quagmire, bogging him down in a stench-filled euphoria. In a distorted mirror, his life would seem complete. He’s happy. He loves Gabriel. But when things come into focus, it’s all a grotesque mask.  
  
“It isn’t real.”  
  
“You think I don’t know that?” He glares at Bennet.  
  
“No, doctor. I don’t think you do.”

 

*****************************************

 

 _He believes he lost the ability to take on more powers due to the virus.”_  
  
_“So you told him he’s just like Peter?”_  
  
_“It seemed the logical explanation.” Bob stops beside the door. “He’s been asking about you. The process worked better than we hoped for. It’s an exciting new day for the Company.”_  
  
_Mohinder frowns, glancing through the small window into the room where he can see the back of Sylar’s head. No. Gabriel, now._  
  
_“In a few_ days _you can begin running your tests. I think he should be ready to leave the facility in about a week. The shop will be reopened. And that nasty business with regards to his mother has been taken care of.” Bob turns, preparing to leave. He says, “I think it’s time you check in on your friend. Tell him everything’s going to be all right.”_  
  
_Mohinder looks over his shoulder at Bob, “You know this isn’t real, right?”_  
  
_He pushes the door open and steps inside._

 

*****************************************

 

Mohinder doesn’t consider when the moment was that he realized he was in love with Gabriel. It could have been that first moment, weeks later or even before, when Gabriel was simply the shadow of a deranged mind. He doesn’t like to think about this because his answer could be an ugly one, and he thinks that what he has is beautiful, and he doesn’t want to taint it.  
  
So when Molly is with Matt, and Gabriel stays over, and they’re together alone in the dark, Mohinder never thinks about the past. He never questions, never ponders, and never revisits things better left untouched. Its Gabriel’s soft skin, the gentle caress of fingers used to working with delicate objects, and the desperate cries of his name as Mohinder pushes Gabriel over the edge again and again that matter.  
  
It’s real because Mohinder needs it to be real. He wants it to be real. And if that ever changes, he’s sure he’ll lose his mind.

 

*****************************************

 

 _“Mohinder!”_  
  
_The smile that greets him causes Mohinder to hesitate inside the threshold, staring at the man he knows so_ well, _and doesn’t know at all. The body and the face are all the same. But the presence, the mannerisms, even the inflection of his voice is different. The dark eyes are filled with warmth and welcome, and Mohinder isn’t certain he can get through this without the contents of his lunch coming up._  
  
_It takes him a long moment to realize the man in front of him is waiting for something; some recognition, some mutual pleasure at seeing him. He has to force himself to speak, to get words out sans the venom that wishes to accompany them._  
  
_“Gabriel.” He pushes a smile_ onto _his face. “You look… well.”_  
  
_“I feel good.” He glances toward the door. “Mr. Bishop… Bob said I can’t leave yet, though.”_  
  
_“No. He’s right.” Mohinder makes his way into the room, allowing the door to close behind him. He sets his bag on a plastic chair. “Just a precaution to make certain the virus is really and truly gone.”_  
  
_“Oh.” Gabriel sits on the tiny bed, looking down at his hands. He suddenly appeared very small in stature. “I’ve… I wondered when you were going to come by. I’ve been… well, Bob has visited. And his daughter… Elle, is it?”_  
  
_Mohinder blinks. He’s saying that he’s been lonely. That it’s Mohinder he’s been waiting to see. Mohinder supposes he could marvel at the transformation a simple influx of new memories has made, or he could storm out of the room and refuse to be a part of it all._  
  
_He sits on the bed beside Gabriel. “I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner.”_  
  
_“It’s all right.” Gabriel looks up and flashes him another bright smile._  
  
_Mohinder finds himself returning it._

 

*****************************************

 

On Christmas Eve, Gabriel gives him a watch. It’s silver, simple and understated, and on the back it says _Thank you for saving me_. Mohinder stares at the etched words, working over and over again the meaning of the words in his mind, trying to fight back the annoying little fears that maybe they haven’t been as clever as they believed. He finally looks up; finds Gabriel watching him with a kind of hopefulness in his gaze that almost breaks his heart. There’s something innocent in Gabriel’s dark eyes, and it would be beautiful if Mohinder wasn’t blinded by the truth. Sometimes, he wishes he could be the one made to forget.  
  
“I don’t understand,” he finally says. “How have I saved you?”  
  
Gabriel shrugs, cheeks flushing slightly with a hint of embarrassment. “I would have been no one if you hadn’t walked into my shop. I would have just been a watchmaker, nothing more, nothing significant.”  
  
Mohinder cups his chin, bringing his gaze back to his own. “There’s nothing wrong with being a watchmaker, Gabriel. You were just as special then, as you are now.”  
  
Leaning in to kiss him, Mohinder realizes he isn’t lying anymore.

 

*****************************************

 

_“How long has it been?” Gabriel runs his fingers over the thick layer of dust on the countertop._

  
_“Quite a while,” Mohinder says. “You were very sick.”_  
  
_He looks over his shoulder. “Did mother come to visit me? I mean, before…” He trails off._  
  
_They had told him she’d been killed. A random act of senseless violence from a break-in. It was mostly true. Gabriel had taken it well. There’d been sorrow but Mohinder got the sense that there was an odd detachment between the two; perhaps some lingering after-effect from what really happened._  
  
_Mohinder doesn’t know how to answer the question. He’s been lying through his teeth on an hourly basis over the last week. It’s tiring._  
  
_Instead, he says, “Looks like we have a lot of cleaning to do in order to get this place back up and running.”_

 

*****************************************

 

Gabriel insists on going up to the roof as the first snowflakes begin to fall that night. He doesn’t understand it, but Mohinder follows anyway, even though it’s cold, and he’d rather be huddled under the blankets in bed, pressed up against Gabriel’s warmth. He wraps his arms around himself, bouncing in place as Gabriel stares up at the night sky, bells sounding in the distance. It would be a very pretty setting, if it weren’t so damned cold.  
  
“Sometimes I wish I could fly,” Gabriel says softly, eyes closed as the snow drifts over him. “Like Nathan and Peter.”  
  
Mohinder worries his lip at this announcement. It isn’t the first time that Gabriel’s said such a thing. Just the other day, he’d been staring after Elle, musing over the ability to shoot electricity from his fingers. They’ve succeeded, for the most part, in burying the Sylar persona, but Mohinder worries that Gabriel’s continual wish to be able to gain powers again may erase everything they’ve tried so hard to build. There has to be something else to give him; something to convince him that he’s perfect as is.  
  
Moving over to him, Mohinder reaches out, placing his hands at his waist, and pulls him close as Gabriel opens his eyes.  
  
“Come back inside with me,” he whispers, brushing his lips lightly over his lovers. “I’ll show you how to fly.”

 

*****************************************

 

 _The first time Mohinder kisses Gabriel is a surprise to both of them._  
  
_They’re working in the lab, a long eight-hour session leaving both tired and cranky, and Gabriel throws one of his now-regular tantrums over impossible things. It’s not fueled by anger this time, but frustration, hurt; there’s so much naked agony in his eyes and it’s beautiful and honest, and Mohinder understands it, feels it as if maybe he were_ an empathic. _And he steps up and cups Gabriel’s face between his hands and kisses him until the tears are gone and Gabriel is clutching him in return, and Mohinder doesn’t care that there are security cameras, and Elle is probably watching them, pointing and laughing. Bob will likely be pleased, anyway. This will bind Gabriel to Mohinder._  
  
_It’s Mohinder’s secret hope that none of them ever realize just how long he’s really wanted to do this._  
  
_When they pull away, Gabriel’s eyes are wide and warm. “This can’t be real,” he whispers._  
  
_“Then we’ll go on pretending.”_

 

*****************************************

 

When Mohinder wakes on Christmas morning, the bed beside him is empty; the sheets cool to the touch.  
  
“Gabriel?” he calls out as he sits up, noting that the closet door is slightly ajar, the bathroom dark and quiet.  
  
After checking the rest of the apartment, bare feet freezing against the wood floor, Mohinder pauses beside the window, listening as the sound of bells ring out across the neighborhood. An odd tremor sweeps over him as he continues to listen to the sound and he glances outside, eyes drawn to the tip of the church spire to the south.

 

*****************************************

 

 _“They stare at me. Sometimes they look at me like… “_  
  
_“Like what?”_  
  
_“Like they’re afraid of me.”_  
  
_“You’re imaging things, Gabriel.”_  
  
_“It would be easier if I could read minds, like Matt and Peter.”_  
  
_Mohinder shakes his head. “You don’t need to read minds. Trust me. Besides, what if you heard things you didn’t want to hear?”_  
  
_Gabriel sighs. “Molly is afraid of me.”_  
  
_“And you’re afraid of her.” Mohinder grins and pokes Gabriel in the side with an elbow. “Anyway, ever think they’re just staring at you because you have such a gorgeous boyfriend?”_  
  
_Gabriel rolls his eyes and it’s adorable. “Well, now we have confirmation that Mohinder Suresh has the ability of super-sized ego.”_

 

*****************************************

 

Mohinder makes his way down the aisle to find Gabriel kneeling in the pew of the third row. There are a couple of old women on the other side of the aisle, but they’re lost in silent prayers. The priest in the shadowed alcove seems to be dozing. Mohinder sits down on the bench beside Gabriel, saying nothing. It seems important suddenly that he let Gabriel be the one to speak.  
  
“The bells woke me,” he says after a bit. “I had a nightmare. When I woke, I realized it was because of them. Their haunting sound…”  
  
He listens. “They’re not haunting, Gabriel. They sound beautiful. Joyous even.”  
  
But Gabriel disagrees. “They’re ringing through my soul.”  
  
And then Gabriel turns his gaze up to him, dark eyes flashing with something secret and hidden within their depths. “This isn’t real, is it?”  
  
A thread of anger moves through Mohinder at his words. He reaches out and grabs a fistful of Gabriel’s sweater, yanking him close. “Yes. It. Is.”  
  
Gabriel looks disbelieving.  
  
Mohinder shakes him slightly. “Do you feel my hand, Gabriel? Can you hear my voice? This?” He kisses him hard before pulling back. “Tell me that none of this is real. _Say it_.”  
  
He waits, shaking inside because he knows this is the moment, this is the last chance, when he either fails or succeeds at this thing they’ve done. Sylar had known; Sylar had warned him that they couldn’t hide him forever. But Mohinder has given in to the illusion; he _believes_.  
  
Gabriel lowers his head, staring down at the stone floor beneath his knees as Mohinder continues to wait, the bells sounding around them, signaling the birth of Christ. After an interminable amount of time, Gabriel finally brings his head back up, a soft smile touching his features.  
  
“The bells do sound beautiful.”

 

*****************************************

 

 _“Why me?”_  
  
_Gabriel is biting his lip as Mohinder looks over at the question. “Why did you choose me?”_  
  
_Mohinder just smiles. “Choice is an illusion, Gabriel. Some things are just meant to be.”_


End file.
